by Neal Davies
“Why did you put this in bed with me, Cynthia?”
She stands at the wardrobe sorting through her clothes and then glances back over her shoulder at him. “Because, my darling, my day is booked out again with Clarissa and if you want to spend the morning together, my photo is the only way to do that,” she giggles and walks towards the bathroom.
Seconds later, she feels a soft blow between her shoulder blades and turns to see one of her pillows on the floor. She glances up at Sebastian, sitting upright with an enormous smile on his face. “Seriously Seb..? You can be a real child at times.” She kicks the pillow back toward the bed and begins her journey again until another well-aimed missile hits her.
“Now you have done it…”
Sebastian begins to worry that he has pushed her too far.
“…if you want war you will have war! And I will shatter you!” Cynthia picks up both pillows from the floor and swings them into Sebastian with the momentum of a wrecking ball. As he tries to cover his head with his own pillow, she knocks it clean out of his hand and continues her barrage like a woman possessed. Sebastian holds his hands over his head and can’t stop laughing and the more he laughs, the harder she hits until she is so weak from laughing and hitting, her arms and stomach ache. He grabs hold of her and rolls her over the top of him to her side of the bed.
They lie there giggling like two little children until she hears a crack. Cynthia pulls her photo from underneath her and the room becomes silent when she realises she has broken the glass on her photo.
“Who is shattered now, Cynthia?” Sebastian says dryly.
Cynthia dissolves into laughter and as she laughs she lets out a snort which makes both of them laugh even louder and longer. She begins picking up the shards of glass from the bed and a tear comes to her eye as she looks lovingly at her husband. “Thank you, Seb! I’ve been so stressed over the past few weeks that I had forgotten how to laugh. You always come through for me when I need you most!”
“Ditto, my love. Ditto!” Cynthia snatches her clothes up off the floor and hurries into the shower. By the time she returns, Sebastian is fast asleep. She kisses him gently on the cheek and leaves for her big day with Clarissa.
++++
While Sebastian sleeps, Paul has already dropped Chelsea off at the airport to catch her very early flight and is now motoring his way to the gym. On arrival he quickly works his way to the change rooms with the intent to be at the station by nine.
Just as he finishes changing, another fellow enters. “Hi, how are you? I’m Jamie. I saw you working out the other day and it looks like you’ve been around a gym before.” He extends his arm.
Paul shakes his hand and smiles, “Hi, Jamie. Good to meet you, I’m Paul. I’m from out of town; this is a bit of a fill in until I get back to my own gym.”
Jamie nods. “Well, I’m one of the personal trainers here so if there’s anything I can help you with, I’m your man. Though I can tell by your form you probably won’t need much advice from me.”
“Well, none of us are perfect. We should never pass up the opportunity to learn. I certainly don’t envy the job you do, though. I’ve met some really arrogant jocks; I bet you’ve come across a few?”
Jamie’s face relaxes. “Definitely! As much as we don’t like to speak ill of the dead, I came across a guy who fits that category perfectly.”
Paul turns his lip up at one side. “I hear you loud and clear, he was probably one of those pretenders too… you know, makes out they’re champions but in reality, can’t make the grade.”
Jamie pulls a key from his pocket, opens his locker and rests his hand on the top of the door. “On the contrary, Paul, he was a champion tri athlete. But a shocking bigot when it came to homosexuality!” He reaches in his locker for his workout gear. “Sorry… I’ve probably said too much,” he says apprehensively.
Paul holds his right palm up. “No, not at all. We’re all born different. Short, tall, white, black, gay or grey, we all swim in the same pond so it’s not that important to me if you’re gay. So long as you’re okay with me being hetero, we’ll get along fine.”
Jamie smiles. “Then I guess we’re going to get along fine.”
Paul sees an opening, “So what did this fellow do?”
“As usual, I was moving around the gym checking if everyone was being seen to, when I noticed this guy misusing the equipment in the way he was lifting. I was concerned he might hurt himself, so I pointed out the mistake he was making. Anyway, he looked me straight in the eye and said, “What would a faggot like you know?” I could see by the look in his eye he wasn’t going to listen to me, so I started walking away and the next minute, BANG! I’m hit in the back of the head with a full water bottle.”
Paul keeps the momentum going, “What a sick bastard! I don’t know if I could hold back; I think I would retaliate.”
Jamie sighs, “I did, worse luck! I grabbed him by the throat and as much as I hated the guy, because of the grief he caused me, I feel bad for doing it now he’s gone.”
Paul heeds Sebastian’s words and backs off in order not to raise suspicions. “You know, you really shouldn’t be so down on yourself; whatever happened was meant to be. But, hey, thanks for taking time out to introduce yourself.”
Jamie smiles as Paul taps him with the open hand on the way out, “I will catch up with you around the gym and yell out if you need anything Paul.”
Paul doesn’t turn but holds his hand up in acknowledgement “Will do!”
Paul has been working out for a couple of hours and he is just about to leave when he spots Joe Devonport heading toward the exit. He’s only a small slim fellow, moving at good pace, and Paul needs to hasten to catch him. “Hi, Joe. Can I have a word?” he says as he latches hold of Joe’s gym bag.
Joe comes to an abrupt halt and wrenches his bag out of Paul’s hand, “Who the fuck are you?” he says in a high-pitched voice, glaring daggers. Paul works hard to keep a straight face at Joe’s tenor voice and the oversized beanie he’s wearing doesn’t help either. His button nose is covered in rather large freckles and Paul thinks he’d make a perfect pantomime character.
“I’m a friend of Kate’s and because I’m new, she suggested you might introduce me to some of the people that work out here.”
Joe, who seems to be in a hurry to get somewhere, snaps back at Paul, “What sort of a friend?” pulling at the neck of his shirt to straighten it.
“No, buddy, you’ve got it all wrong. Kate’s been helping me to meet people around here, that’s all. As lovely as she is, she’s not my type and I mean that in the nicest possible way.”
Joe’s demeanour changes and he lets his bag slide onto the floor. “Sorry about that. I was in a bit of a hurry, that’s all. Look, if you meet me here at six tomorrow, I’ll walk you around, okay?” Joe shakes Paul’s hand and heaves the heavy gym bag back over his shoulder. “Okay?”
Paul’s eyelids lower and a questioning expression falls slowly over his face. “That would be good, Joe. I’ll see you then.” Paul has had enough for the morning, so he showers, changes and heads back to the station.
++++
Sebastian arrives at the station an hour after Paul and says his routine good morning to the policeman at reception who gives a half smile as he grabs his phone to make a call. Sebastian drops his cane with a crack and everyone looks up. He picks it up and continues on his way to the Dust Pit, only to find Paul in high spirits after typing up his report. “Hi, Seb, here’s a coffee for you; how has your morning been?” he says cheerfully.
“Good, good and thank you for my coffee. Oh, by the way, I suggest you sit up straight as Jim is on his way here, “he replies in a serious manner.
Paul quickly looks up from checking over his paperwork, “What? Here in the Dust Pit?”
Jim knocks on the door opens it and half enters, “I’m glad you’re both here.” Paul looks in disbelief firstly behind him at Jim and then back at Sebastian. He tilts his head and opens his hands co
vertly while looking at Sebastian curiously.”
Sebastian, who is taking a seat, gives him a wink and relaxes back in his chair, arms crossed. “How long have we got, Jim?”
Jim’s skin creases between his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Sebastian lifts his eyes slowly to the ceiling and then back down again. “I mean, the meeting with the Commissioner didn’t go as well as you hoped and he has set a timeframe to wind up this investigation.”
“How the …”
“Let’s look at the facts, Jim. I gave you an update yesterday so you’re not here on a fact-finding mission. Now, normally, if you needed us, for a matter, you’d send Emily to fetch us. It has to be about the case because you want to talk to both of us. So where does that leave us?”
“I picked up the morning paper on my way in and Michael Cohen’s face was plastered all over it. I imagine the Commissioner was informed before it was released… and you had a meeting with the Commissioner, after which you informed reception to ring you as soon as I arrived. So here you are - about to inform us that the Commissioner has locked in a timeframe for you to bring more investigators onto the case.” Sebastian expounds.
Jim leans heavily up against the door frame and smiles. “How could you be sure the guy on reception was contacting my office?”
Sebastian smiles confidently and then a veil of seriousness falls over his face. “Well, normally, he greets me with a smile and a casual salute but this morning he had a nervous half smile and quickly grabbed the phone. I gave him a questioning stare and, once I saw his head bow with guilt, it was good odds that he was phoning about me. So I deliberately dropped my cane and as I bent to retrieve it, I saw that he was ringing Emily’s extension and when she didn’t come to meet me before I reached the Dust Pit… well, anyway, you’re here now. How long do we have?”
Jim tightens his lips. “No more than a week, I’m sorry.”
Sebastian smiles in a fatherly fashion, “That is not a problem, Jim. Paul and I will have this investigation wrapped up in a matter of days.”
Paul’s face contorts as though he has tasted something bitter on hearing Sebastian’s statement and before long it turns to a negative frown. Jim nods his head gently. “You know something… I believe you guys will.” Jim turns to walk out and then turns around again. “Oh, by the way, we have just had an increase in the budget for construction and I’ve put in for an extension to the Dust Pit. So keep your fingers crossed.” Jim turns again and strolls out.
Paul slumps back in his chair. “Are you kidding me, Seb?”
Sebastian stares at him inquisitively. “No. What would I be kidding about?”
Paul looks through sharp peering eyes, “How the hell are we going to tie this up in a few days?”
Sebastian smirks. “I never said a few days; I said a matter of days. I’m not sure whether you know this or not but there are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and that’s all that matters.”
Paul waves his head as it bows. “This isn’t a joke, Seb. The pressure is on.”
Sebastian’s smile fades from his face. “No, Paul. The pressure is on someone who is unwell or can’t cope with everyday life. We are the fortunate ones! We have our health and prosperity and it’s about time you started to believe in achievability. We just have a few loose ends to tie up and we will close this case in a matter of days. Now, can we talk about your morning at the gym, please?”
Paul relaxes again and talks at length about the conversations he had, especially about Jamie Hanigan and Joe Devonport. Later that day before they leave Sebastian tells Paul he will visit Joe’s old neighbourhood in the morning and as Cynthia is busy with Clarissa, he makes numerous calls until he eventually tracks down Joe’s old address. Paul tells Sebastian he will spend another day at the gym.
++++
Sebastian makes a couple of stops on his way home and on arrival puts his packages down, removes his coat and heads for the kitchen where he can hear the giggling of female voices. “Hello, what are you two up to?” Cynthia and Clarissa are working on invitations at the kitchen table and they both look up at him then smile at each other while Sebastian stands there with a questioning look on his face. “Anyway, I brought you something, my love.” He draws a bunch of beautiful red roses from behind his back.
Clarissa’s eyes light up and Cynthia gets to her feet and gives him a welcoming kiss, “Awe! Thank you, Seb! I’ll find an empty vase for these; what else do you have there?”
“Well, unlike yesterday, I remembered you and Clarissa were meeting today and I was hoping you would both end up back here like you sometimes do,” he smiles at Clarissa and then continues.
“Now, I know your wonderful husband is away at the moment, Clarissa, so I dropped into this fantastic little Japanese restaurant on the way home and bought enough for the three of us; would you do the honour of joining us?”
Cynthia smiles at him lovingly and Clarissa replies with a big cheeky grin, “Thank you so much, Seb, but I will have to decline unless I can put a condition on it.”
“Definitely my dear. What is it you require?”
She glances over to Cynthia. “Well… I thought we might have a good old fashioned pillow fight after we have eaten.” Both women break into fits of laughter and Sebastian, although trying hard to maintain a little dignity, eventually weakens and creates a trumpeting noise with his lips. The rest of the evening is spent in joyous laughter and frivolities.
12. JOE DEVENPORT’S OLD NEIGHBORHOOD – WEDNESDAY
As Sebastian drives toward the inner city he notes the change in scenery. Scents of industry from factories and warehouses litter the area. The smell mixes with an aroma of fresh food and coffee. It then dissipates, only to reappear as steel dust, rust and diesel from the railway line that seems to have magically appeared which is now running parallel to the road. The tracks eventually snake off in another direction; which leaves Sebastian feeling isolated as they had made him feel like they were along for the ride. The streets in Joe’s old neighbourhood are lined with tarred pavements and bluestone edging and many of the townhouses of red brick with cream are crammed together like a line of sentinels guarding secrets from bygone days.
Sebastian pulls over to the curb, grabs his cane from the car and strolls onto the tiled veranda. He knocks on the door where Joe had lived with his family and feels a cold rush go up his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck tingle.
A young blonde woman, wearing casual clothes and no makeup, answers the door. “Yes, can I help you?” she says apprehensively.
Sebastian shows her his identification. “I sincerely hope so. I’m wondering if I may have a word with you. I promise I won’t keep you long. I’m helping the police with an investigation and I thought you might be able to tell me a little about the people who lived here before you?”
She backs away slightly and her eyebrows knit. “I’m not in any danger, am I?”
“No, no, not at all. This is just a routine investigation, nothing to worry about,” he replies in his deep, dulcet voice.
So with begrudging approval, she continues. “I’d rather do this interview with my husband present but as there’s not a lot I can tell you, it really won’t matter all that much. All I can say is that, when we first moved in, the neighbours kept telling us how grateful they were that we were here and that the Devonport’s had moved out.”
“Did they say why?”
She sighs a little with annoyance. “Now this isn’t coming from me so I don’t want any repercussions, I’m only telling you what the neighbours told me. From what they said the police or child safety were called two to three times a week to take care of the domestic issues; apparently he would bash her and she would take it out on the boy. That’s all I know but from what I’m told, Mrs Green four doors down knows more. Just don’t tell her I told you!”
He assures her he won’t, thanks her and heads off down the street.
Sebastian leaves the car where it is as he feels
the need for exercise – after all, it’s only four doors down – and he shortly arrives at a quaint red and blue brick Victorian. Just as he opens the white wire gate, the lace curtains twitch and an old woman peers out from the side of them. He raises his cane in a friendly manner and the curtains vigorously swing closed.
Unperturbed Sebastian turns and shuts the creaking gate and continues his way up the path. He finds himself overwhelmed by the fragrance of the beautiful cottage garden and its splendid design of ruby velvet roses, lilac lavenders and the sweet perfumed jasmine that runs along the fence line. He inhales for one last time then follows the brick path up to the heritage green door. He turns the winged metal doorbell and hears dainty footsteps within. The door half opens and a frail figure of a woman pops her head around like a child playing hide and seek behind a tree.
She pulls her chin tight against her neck, cautiously looks up and her voice quavers with age. “Who are you and what can I do for you?” Sebastian goes to hand her official papers but before he can extend his arm fully, “I don’t want whatever you are about to hand me. Now, I asked you a question, Sir. Who are you and what do you want?”
Sebastian surprised by her change from frail to assertive, places the papers back into his jacket, “I do apologise Mrs Green, my name is Sebastian Cork…”
Before he can speak another word the door flings wide open. “I knew it! You’re a bit older now but I knew it! Well, don’t stand there. Come in, come in!”
Now Sebastian’s the curious one. He follows the frail hunched figure down the narrow, musty, hallway to a kitchen where she begins filling her kettle. She tells him to take a seat as she hobbles into another room. “Here it is!” a muffled voice is heard from the other room and the shuffling footsteps grow as she works her way back to the kitchen. Mrs Green holds up a large book with Sebastian’s photo on it.
“This is your first book and the only one with your picture on the cover; I never forget a face and yes, you were a lot younger then, but I knew it was you the moment you came through that gate. Oh, how I wish Elsie was still alive; she’d be screaming and carrying on like a banshee at Halloween. We both studied psychology at the same university, and after our graduation remained friends ’til poor Elsie passed a couple of years back. “The kettle begins to whistle and the old woman turns off the gas. “You know something? We could see you were special after reading your first book and as soon as you brought out a new edition, Elsie and I would sit and discuss the essence of it. Your career bonded our friendship and I can’t thank you enough. Now, what would you like, tea or coffee?”
